Forgiveness
by FAIRxxVIEW
Summary: Now mortal and 100% human, Loki finds himself at the mercy of an angry human on Midguard. Will the Avengers find him before its too late? Will he finally find forgiveness? Rated M for language, violence and references to rape.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER:I do not own The Avengers. Or Thor... If I did then Loki wouldn't be evil! Anyway. This will contain. A LOT of whump. Loki whump to be exact. It features all of the Avengers and of course, Loki. First person point of view. Pay attention to the headings say whose point of view it is. Rated for violence, more violence, and innuendo of rape. If you think it needs a higher/lower rating then tell me. I'm bad at selecting ratings. If you read please review! Not for the squeamish! The chapter is shorter than the others I have. Sorry. I will update every day or so.

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**LOKI POV  
**  
My real punishment for my invasion of Midguard was that I became mortal and was forced to live on Earth until Odin - I refused to call him _father_- decreed I had learned my lesson. And by that, he meant until I earned forgiveness. I suppose he meant I was supposed to feel guilty and responsible for everything that had happened, and to go apologize to the Avengers first thing. Well, I did that. And it most certainly did not make a difference. The raw hatred in their eyes told me I would never be forgiven.

That was two months ago.

My head was pounding when I woke, everything around me pitch black and strangely cold. I wondered how I could actually feel the cold, until I remembered that Odin had practically stripped and rewrote my DNA to make me 100% human. At least I wasn't a hybrid frost giant. Now I was just my own monster.

I could almost imagine my breath fogging the air and I wondered where I was.

Last thing I remembered was drowning my guilt and pain in glass after glass of some mortal wine until the swirling darkness of unconsciousness welcomed me home.

Well, that explained the headache. Or hangover, they called it.

Now, where am I? I tried to move my head but my arms felt strangely heavy. No, not heavy. Something was preventing them from moving. The try only woke a burning ache in my back and shoulders and a chaffing throb in my wrists. I could move my legs but not very far. It took me a long moment to realize my arms were tied over my head and I was sitting on the floor. I tried to stand to relieve the pressure on my shoulders, but my legs refused to take any weight and the jostling movement only made it hurt worse. I sucked in a breath, tried to focus, and grabbed at the bindings - chains, I realized - trying to pull myself up. That sent a vicious couple of tendrils down both arms and into my already sore shoulders, enough to make me groan out loud and sink back down.

No sooner had the noise escaped my throat when a blinding light flashed on. I flinched, shutting my eyes and pressing my face into one arm as I waited for my weak human eyes to adjust. I had long since grown used to the faults and limits of being mortal, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

When the blurriness went away I recognized a tall shape standing before me. Focusing, I bit back a startled gasp. It was the strangest thing I ha d ever seen. The man - I assumed by the height an build - was dressed in all black clothing, including an oversize black leather jacket. His face was a white mask - similar to something seen on Halloween - with huge perfectly circular eyes and an O for the mouth. There was a hood over the mask that prevented me from seeing any detailed features of the person. In his hands was something long, slender and grayed at one end. It took me a moment to recognize the whip, but I felt cold dread and fear enter my heart at the sight of it.

"Hello, Loki," A disembodied, computerized voice said. My mouth felt dry. I couldn't even begin to form words to respond. How long had I been here?

My kidneys either weren't working or I hadn't been here for too long because I hadn't wet myself yet, and nor did I feel the need. My vote was for the latter. Alcohol was a dehydrator, so my constant thirst would get even worse in the coming hours if I didn't get something to drink - like water. But I couldn't quite ask that of my...abductor?

When the man approached me, I tried very hard not to shrink back. Instead, I stared him full in the face, trying to see something behind the mask. All I knew was A.) the man was too big to be any of the Avengers, and B.) Odin should be able to get me out of this. I'd learned my lesson. The mortals were, basically, gods without magic. And I never even wanted to rule... I just wanted to be _something_worthy in the eyes of my... family. And not just Thor's little brother, either. But now I am the devil who tried to destroy the world. Not a great title either.

"How does it feel to be human now?" The voice hissed.

The man reached up and grabbed the other end of the chain I was tied to and dragged it down. Pain woke in my back and shoulders and especially my wrists as I was forcibly lifted off of my feet to the point where I couldn't even touch the ground with my toes. I couldn't stop the pained gasps and whimpers from escaping, but I could hear the low, cruel chuckle of the other man.

I glared.

He walked over to me and seemed to look over my body. Then he stepped back.

"Mary Heath. Age 34. Female. School teacher. Killed in the New York Invasion," the man said. My eyes went wide with alarm. I knew the name. I knew all of the others that went with it, too. I spent every night thinking about each of those people and their lives. Revenge? That was what this was?

I wanted to try and reason with him, to beg and apologize, but it was too late. The whip lashed brutally against my stomach, easily striking through the thick clothing of my sweatshirt beneath it. I cried out, my body arching away from the whip, but I only succeeded in further wrenching my shoulders.

"John Creed. Age 28. Male. Father of a daughter born two days after he was murdered."

This time, the frayed end of the whip lashed open a welt just over my collar bone. I screamed and wished with everything in me that this was all just a nightmare. But I didn't wake up. Instead, the whip came down against and again as the man read off names, ages, genders, and something about a victim that I was responsible for killing. And some part of me knew that I deserved every single thing that came at me. Even as the whip cut open bloody slashes over my ribs. Even as it burned through the flesh under my arms. Even when I was twisted brutally around so the whip could reach my back. Even as one shoulder popped out of place and was forcibly rammed back in. And even when my torso was littered with scars beneath my clothing and dripped with blood. AT some point, what was left of my rational mind realized the man was repeating the names. The despair grew until I was swallowed whole by unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER:I do not own The Avengers. Or Thor... If I did then Loki wouldn't be evil! Anyway. This will contain. A LOT of whump. Loki whump to be exact. It features all of the Avengers and of course, Loki. First person point of view. Pay attention to the headings say whose point of view it is. Rated for violence, more violence, and innuendo of rape. If you think it needs a higher/lower rating then tell me. I'm bad at selecting ratings. If you read please review! Not for the squeamish! Time to continue! I was slightly worried but the lack of a review - thought people hated it. Then I checked my inbox! hahah. .. note... I have not yet watched the Avengers... but I cheated and read a bunch of fanfictions... and felt like writing my own! xD

-  
**LOKI POV  
**  
I dreamed I had fallen into a barrel of glass. The shards tore into my chest and sides and back and stomach. My shoulders were shredded to pieces. It burned and I could do nothing but thrash around, making the glass dig deeper into my wounds. I wanted to stop, but could not. I kept thrashing until all the glass as either in my body or ground into dust and by then I was so weak that I couldn't even move. In front of me I saw the sky, and there were ugly storm clouds. For awhile I lay, staring blearily up at the sky until the clouds opened and water practically was dumped down on me. It filled my mouth and nose and raked through my sinuses and down my throat until I choked and heaved and my eyes shot open.

I was lying flat on my back on the floor, arms still tied above me, with a bucket of ice water pouring over my face. Immediately it went away when I began to choke and cough up water, my throat burning from the process. My vision was blurred badly but I still knew that the man was there, enjoying my pain.

I groaned as I tried to move. My shoulders were like steel with needles and knives poking into the nerves and making my arms numb. That was probably a good thing, as I looked up and saw rivulets of blood raining down my forearms from my wrists. I closed my eyes, struggling to get my breathing under control when the man slapped me hard enough to make my ears ring. I grunted and forced them open.

"Good morning. How are you feeling today?" the man sneered.

I glared up at him.

"Still got some spirit, I see. We'll take care of that today. Drink up." A glass was brought to my lips and I immediately shut them, refusing to let the glass gain entry. After a moment, he pinched my nose shut so I was forced to open my mouth to breathe and tipped the liquid in. It burned all the way down my throat and into my stomach where it settled, and suddenly I was so nauseous I thought I was going to vomit all over myself.

"What was that?" I finally said, my voice rasping with little more than a whisper.

"Need to keep yo conscious for this," the man responded with a smirk. That sent prickles of fear and foreboding down my spine.

The man looked down my body and seemed to pause for a moment around my hips. Understanding swept through me. _No!_ The man seemed please at the horrified look in my eyes and shifted so he was straddling my waste before removing his jacket and beginning to - slowly - undo his pants. _No, no, no!_ I wanted to beg and plead but my voice was gone. Instead, I could only watch and writhe faintly as he revealed my lower body. The humiliation and shame that swept through me suddenly released my voice.

"Please, no!" I gasped. "Don't..." I was effectively silenced by a rag being stuffed into my mouth. The churning in my stomach only increased and I was afraid I was going to be sick - and then asphyxiate thanks to the gag in my mouth.

I shut my eyes, wishing I could flee to the recesses of my mind.

_Help me!_ I thought. There was no answer.

My eyes shot open and my body shook as the pain began.

* * *

It seemed to last forever. Hours, days, I didn't know. It was never ending.

He had the decency to at least redress my shame before leaving the room and shutting me in the dark once more. I lay there, breathing shallowly through the gag and shivering from cold, pain and disgust. I felt filthy. My body was sticky beneath my clothes, from blood, among other things. I wanted to close my eyes and let sleep take me, but could not even get that far from the pain gripping me inside and out. I was weak, pathetic... dirty.

I fought back the tears. I couldn't cry. I wouldn't let myself break that far. I was already lying in filth - my blood, mostly, and now other things that I never wanted to acknowledge -, my shoulder had popped out of joint again at some point, and my body burned with pain so great that I didn't even dare move my legs. Caught between shivering and staring weakly into the impenetrable darkness, my mind began to drift to the point that I was sure my sanity was lost. Or perhaps, I never had it to begin with. Yes, that was it. I had always been an insane monster. Maybe I was just losing it further than before.

_Father?_ I thought. I wasn't sure which father I was talking to. Was it Odin or Laufey? I didn't know. Either way, I realized both had left me for dead.

Silence answered my thoughts.

_Brother?_ I wondered if Thor would leave me too. Of course, I was mortal now. How could I communicate with either of them? They had probably forgotten about their poor, insane sibling or adopted son years ago. That was alright. I wasn't worth the worry.

* * *

**CLINT POV**

Strangely, I was starting to feel worried. It wasn't that first time that a passed out drunk Loki had to be dragged out of a bar in the past two months, but it was the first time the man dragging him wasn't an employee. In fact, as Clint watched, he thought he saw a gleam of malice in those dark eyes. At that time he hadn't felt the least bit concerned. He would probably go beat up the former god in an alley and then Clint would have to drag him out. His hatred for Loki was still there, but he was tasked with the job of making sure he didn't get killed. And after months of watching his former enemy destroy his self inside out from things I could not imagine or understand, my rage was beginning to ebb. Just a little.

I must be crazy. How could I feel worry for _that_ thing? But I couldn't find him anywhere. I, with the sharp eyes that made it impossible for me to _not_ notice something, couldn't find the ex-god. Nor could I stop the man who had half dragged, half carried my quarry out of the bar.

_Damn. Thor is going to be pissed._

And that was true.

When I dropped the bomb at the latest Avenger's meeting - set a day and a half after Loki vanished - that I had lost him, I practically fell out of my seat when Thor shot up and nearly knocked over the table in the process.

"What?" He had asked with his eyes wide.

The look on everyone else's face varied from annoyance, to alarm, to concern, and in Natasha's case, satisfaction. Someone had finally gotten rid of their problem. As much I was inclined to agree, I had an angry god with a hammer staring daggers at me across the table.

"He went to a bar. Got drunk. Passed out. Got dragged out by someone. It happens all the time..." I responded as calmly as I could manage.

"But you do not know where my brother went?" Thor responded.

I hesitated. "No."

And that had set off the events to the point we were at now. And at this moment, I was definitely worried, and feeling a little bit guilty. The man was a brother to one of the victim's of the New York Invasion. He had fallen off the face of the Earth at the same time Loki had. We had tracked him to a rather large area in an abandoned box of homes. If we were lucky, they could find Loki in hours. If not, it would take a day to search through everything. And I realized that the former god could very well be dead already after going through who knows what. And even through my hatred over what Loki had done to, I didn't believe anyone deserved _that_ kind of treatment.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Avengers. Or Thor... If I did then Loki wouldn't be evil! Anyway. This will contain. A LOT of whump. Loki whump to be exact. It features all of the Avengers and of course, Loki. First person point of view. Pay attention to the headings say whose point of view it is. Rated for violence, more violence, and innuendo of rape. If you think it needs a higher/lower rating then tell me. I'm bad at selecting ratings. If you read please review! Not for the squeamish! Time to continue! note... I have not yet watched the Avengers... but I cheated and read a bunch of fanfictions... and felt like writing my own! xD

-  
**LOKI POV  
**  
I woke to a burst of pain and began coughing, choking and gasping for air, eyes wide with shock and panic. My ribs were burning and the welts from the whipping earlier reopened and bled. I couldn't see a thing. I realized the gag was gone but probably only because the _creature _wanted to hear me scream. So I bit my tongue and only proceeded to almost bite it off when something smashed into the same part of my ribs. An agonized cry died in my throat as something shifted in my side and I could almost envision my ribs, broken and digging into skin and organs.

Time blurred.

My entire body felt like t was on fire on the outside and being put through a food processor on the inside. New pains hardly registered. Vaguely, I noticed that my dislocated shoulder and its arm were completely numb. Good. Less pain. I focused on it.

A blow to my jaw stunned me. My moth was already filled with blood. I coughed and heaved, feeling as though I was drowning.

After several minutes I realized that everything had stopped. I lay with my eyes shut until I heard the rattling of chains. Pain lanced through the only arm and shoulder I could feel and I was being lifted off my feet. I whimpered as my legs straightened and hung. That pain was different. It wasn't like the broken bones, bruised bones, fractured bones, and everything else that hurt. This was inside. _Deep _inside.

The lights turned on and I no longer had the strength to flinch away. I just closed my eyes until I could stare dully at the floor. The whip found the flesh where my broken bones were. The pain was so distant I was hardly aware of it. My eyes drifted shut as it went on and on and on. The occasional whimper escaped my throat if it hit an exceptionally bad area, but other than that I did nothing. Eventually, that too came to a halt. A rough hand grabbed my jaw and I stared into the masked face. The eyes behind it were brown. Unfamiliar. He slapped me when my eyes were beginning to close again.

"Stay awake, brat. You killed my daughter. My little girl. And the little girls and boys of many others..." There was a moment of silence. "If you survive this... remember that," the voice hissed.

Pain swept through my skull and head so strung that I thought I was dying. My entire body bucked and I absolutely shrieked in agony until my voice died and silent screams came from me. It took my brain some time to process what had just _happened_. The chains became slack and I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, unable to move. Dry heaves overwhelmed me until I got some wits back. I was alone in the room. The man had stabbed me in the ear, piercing my ear drum and the skin and flesh and cartilage to the point I thought it had exploded. Nausea swirled around me. I could hear nothing from the stabbed ear and ringing in the other - probably from pain and exhaustion and shock.

Shock. The funny human reaction to physical and/or emotional trauma.

I closed my eyes and shuddered and shivering,feeling the world swirl around me. I was unbalanced. The spinning made me dry heave again. I groaned in pain. Event he ground was shaking. I opened my eyes, lying in a pool of my own blood and what remained of the fluids from the other man. I wanted to cry. I could not, couldn't I? I was alone and there was no reason not to anymore.

The door opened. _Leave me alone, I thought, _wanting to shut him out. But it wasn't him that stood there.

_Thor!_

My brother stood in shock and stared down at me with the most horrified expression I had ever seen. It would have,at one point, been funny. But as of no I was frozen between fear and happiness. What was he doing here?But as of now I was frozen between fear and happiness. What was he doing here? Was he going to help me, or was he behind all of this? No, he couldn't be, with such an expression on his face. I wondered for a moment if the shock was making me hallucinate.

"Brother," Thor whispered. I could hardly hear him through the ringing in my good ear. It was like a muffled breath of wind. I felt unable to respond.

He knelt down beside me and I struggled to keep my eyes open as the room misted and rolled around me. Vertigo. Ears were a major part of the human's process to keep their balance. I wouldn't be walking out of here. Heck, I wouldn't have _tried_. I didn't dare, with my lower body aching the way it was.

I felt Thor remove the chains from around my wrists and saw the gush of blood down my arms. It had chafed all the way through, maybe, I thought, to the bone. My brother's gaze hardened.

"You're alright, I've got you," he said, beginning to lift me from the ground in a bridal carry. It hurt. I flinched away from his touch but couldn't protest. Couldn't tell him why. Eventually the fear fell away and I let myself lay completely limp in his arms. Any bit of movement was jarring. He was carrying me slowly out of the room. In the hallway I was almost surprised to see the rest of the Avengers in full gear. The masked man was with them, a prisoner. The ringing in my ear was gradually lessening. The other one was a constant explosion of flying glass and nails.

"Holy..." Stark muttered aloud a lift of profanities when he saw us. I saw in confusion as the rest of them stopped dead in shock. Captain America looks faintly like he was about to throw up. The faces on the rest - if he could see them - were similar. Bruce Banner began to get a little green and his eyes flared. He had to turn quickly and walk in the other direction to try and calm down.

_Why?_ I wondered.

I was even more surprised and caught between relief and guilt when Clint - Hawkeye - drove an arrow into the unknown man's brain. It had been revenge for the man. I had been responsible for his daughter's death. But none of the Avenger's seemed the least bit bothered by the fat they had just killed a human citizen in cold blood. In fact, they looked rather pleased.

I tried to continue to focus but I knew very well that my consciousness was coming to an end. It was a combination of the blood loss and pain and confusion.

By the time they had met up with the rest of the Avengers I was swirling in and out of consciousness and could barely hear. Before I completely passed out, I heard my brother say a few mumbled words.

"beaten... raped."

* * *

**CLINT POV**

It felt immense satisfaction as the monster hit the ground dead, blood spraying across the floor. One look at my enemy - my _former_ enemy - had sent me right of the edge.

The screech we had arrived to before was like nothing any of us had ever heard of. It was so full of pain and despair that it seemed almost animal-like, yet it was just personal enough to be human. Thor had moved like a bull. The rest of us were frozen for a little while. Then I turned just in time to see someone trying to dodge around the corner. My arrow hit the man's leg before he could completely now he was dead, though perhaps too swiftly for what he had done.

Loki had never looked so scrawny before. He had never been particularly "big", but now he looked like he had been dragged into hell and back. Twice. He was a mess of blood. His eyes were dead and unfocused, and one ear was dripping with blood. His black hair was ratty and unkempt, spiky with drying blood from god knows where. The clothing over his entire torso was torn and hanging in rags off of him. The colour was lost in endless spatters of blood. One arm was dislocated. Hands were pale, bordering on the blue side, as though circulation had just begun in them. I could see white bones in the cuts where a rope of chain had bound him. I thought I was going to be sick. His lower body was also scarred and slashed. What I noticed immediately was that the jeans, especially in his crotch area, were red with dried blood. My vision swam. I wished I hadn't killed the man. I wish I had tied him up and skinned him alive. This was...

I feared to get closer. I saw his eyes drifting shut and hoped he would pass out so he didn't have to feel. The look in Thor's eyes was so frightening that I was almost sure I was going to puke. I knew part of what had happened. But it made it real when Thor said the word "raped".

Unable to take it any further, I staggered to one side and threw up over the shiny floors. I leaned against the wall and waited for most of the nausea to subside. When I turned back I saw that the Captain had followed my example.

"My tower, Thor. It has a medical bay..." Stark said. Thor didn't need to be told twice.

I felt hesitant to go back. Not yet. I needed to see some thing first. Glancing over at Stark, I turned to move down the hall to the room where Loki had been held. I stepped in, swallowing convulsively at the mess on the floor. There was blood everywhere, mixed with the filth of that man, and there were chains hanging from some kind of a rolling device on the ceiling. On the floor was a knife that was bright red up till the hilt, and in the corner... was that a whip?

My vision seemed to go white again and if I could have, I would revive that man just to kill him in the worst way possible. In my mind, he had already stopped being human. He was not just a creature... a thing.


End file.
